


Catastrophic

by LuxDeorum



Series: Personal Demons Verse [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: also sorin is dealing with a lot of shit he did not deal with before, warning for extreme cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 16:22:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15465360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxDeorum/pseuds/LuxDeorum
Summary: I know I said I was done with Lev n Fax but apparently they weren't done with me. This story follows Sorin as he attempts to get his life together, and Tiger, a kitten who decides to adopt him. Kitten shenanigans ensue.





	1. Tiger, part one

One thing that Fax could not avoid was the fact that being the proud caretaker of so many cats meant that it wasn’t unusual to discover that one of the queens had produced a litter of kittens. This was, of course, just fine. If the mother was willing, Fax found homes for the little ones, if only for Lev’s sanity. If not, well. Lev hadn’t ever complained, and the cats often wandered off themselves in time.

Tiger was one of the kittens from the most recent litter. His mother had shown no sign of wanting to let her kits wander much further than the edge of the nest she had made, and so Fax had left her to her own devices, even after the kittens were certainly old enough to wander on their own.

The kittens, of course, chafed. They adored their mother, but they wanted to see things, learn things, as all kittens do. Being cooped up, no matter how safe, was just downright boring! Thankfully, other cats would come sometimes, just to give their mother a break. Usually it was a tubby tom who announced himself as Nee, or a slight but demanding little cat who Tiger’s mother referred to as Teacup. Teacup was not a favorite of Tiger’s, because Teacup was prone to sitting stock still and not saying a word, verbal or otherwise. Instead those pale gold eyes fixed upon Tiger and his much larger sister, and watched. And watched… and watched. Teacup never had any good stories to tell, and rarely was willing to play. At most he flicked his tail and let them chase it.

Of course, other cats stepped in. Magpie liked to sneak them from the little nest in the closet for adventures, and Janet, while less inclined to let them explore beyond the boundaries of their tiny Kingdom, told the many tales that kept the kittens will occupied.

Beyond the cats that cared for Tiger and his sister (who was called Shadow, and named much more fittingly than Tiger had been, if the author is permitted to comment), there was also a tall creature Janet callled a demon, and their mother called Fax. Demon seemed better to Tiger, who liked the way the word made his fur bush out deliciously.

This demon, no matter how small he tried to crouch, was always towering over them. However, he had gentle hands and a soothing voice. The only offsetting thing about him was that his scent was usually tinged with the acrid smell of smoke. Shadow often complained, sneezing pointedly whenever he showed up. Despite Shadow’s distaste, their mother always made a point to purr when the demon came to visit, pressing against his legs and leaning into the hand that ran down her spine, and that was enough for Tiger to do the same.

It wasn’t too long after this demon started visiting regularly that the kittens were allowed to romp and tumble beyond the confines of the closet without being scolded, and even further out of the bedroom. Shadow found great fun in perching on what Magpie told them was a TV. Tiger was ever astonished at how much there was to see, to climb, to explore, and he did so to his heart’s content.

Aside from the demon, there was a rumpled creature who /looked like their mother’s demon, but smelled sharp instead. Tiger could never explain how this particular creature smelled both bright and damp at the same time, and he quickly grew bored enough to not even try anymore. Much to Shadow’s amusement, this light-creature seemed more skittish of them than they were of him, and ever cautious. Still, Tiger found sneaking up on the light-creature boring not too long after discovering it could make the light-creature jump, especially once they realized that any distress from the light-creature brought a beast trotting their way. Janet promised them the beast, a dog she called it, would not harm them, but Tiger figured it best not to push his luck. After all, those were rather long fangs.

The next week was a whirlwind of exploring and getting into mischief. Tiger had discovered the joys of climbing, and quickly tested his abilities on anything and everything. The demon, the bed, the couch, shelves, nothing was too tall for the little kitten to attempt to scale. The only unfortunate consequence was that more than once Tiger found himself somewhere so high he did not know how to get down from. Sometimes the demon rescued him, and sometimes his mother carried him down. As humiliating as it was to be stranded, at least he knew he would never be left to his own mistakes permanently.

Still, even with his tendencies to climb beyond his means, and even with his sister’s teasing, and even with the furry dog keeping them from having a little fun, Tiger was a sleek, happy little kitten, and wouldn’t have traded his lot in life for anything in the world. 


	2. Sorin, part one

Sorin always felt awkward when Cy dragged him over to Fax’s house. Sure, he’d apologized, and Fax wasn't angry (was Fax even capable of staying mad? Had he ever been mad to begin with?), but he still felt the guilt weighing uncomfortably on his shoulders. It shouldn't be this easy, the way they acted like nothing had happened. 

The only person who was any sort of awkward was the angel, and that was just to be expected. A coward through and through, while he kept from flinching back, and he didn't do anything overt, still had a line of tension running through him every time Sorin was in the same room. He tried to act like he was relaxed, and maybe he was sometimes, but Sorin still saw him tense and cling to the hound every once in a while. 

Still, Cy insisted on visiting and Sorin was desperate to do anything that made his boyfriend happy. He owed Cyrus so much more than just that bare minimum. So what if his interaction with everyone in the room felt beyond awkward? Cy was happy and Fax was happy and the angel wasn't crying, so Sorin holed up in the corner and tried not to upset anyone.

He would have taken comfort in the fact that the cats enjoyed his company without reserve, if only the cats hadn't taken one sniff of him, decided he smelled enough like them to work, and proclaimed him ambassador and babysitter. He could handle the complaints, partly because when the cats spoke it was an interesting mix of body language and impatient mews because he was better versed in the subtle whisker twitches and rippling fur when he took his demonic form, and partly because the cats were usually quite happy. The biggest complaint Fax got was from a rather tubby tom who told Sorin he did not appreciate the food being locked away. Fax assured Sorin he was well aware of Needle’s complaints, and that was that.

Now, the last time they'd visited, Fax had recently found homes for the last of the two litters (and good thing, too, Fax didn't need any more permanent cats). Sorin was very much looking forward to a night with a lapful of adults to speak to, and not needle sharp kitten claws digging into him at all times.

Of course, having set his heart on that peace, the universe was required to thwart him. The moment he walked in the house, Fax waved him into the kitchen. “Pancake had a litter a few weeks ago,” he confided. “They're terrible little things, near gave Lev a heart attack the other day when he almost sat on the girl. But the little guy’s stuck on the top of the fridge and I could use some help getting him down.”

“Isn't that what stools are for?” Sorin grumbled. 

“Yeah, but Pancake likes you and she trusts you, and you happened to come in right on time, so could you please get him down?” Fax pleaded.

Sorin wrinkled his nose, and edged past Lev with a small nod (the angel didn't lean away; it must be a good day for him). As promised, on top of the fridge a tiny scrap of black fur crouched, mewing with far more voice than Sorin would have expected from something so small.

“What are you doing up there?” He murmured as he reached for the kitten slowly. The kitten leaned back, fur puffing up. Sorin waited him out, trying for patience as the kitten sniffed at his fingers. After a moment he was able to snag the cat and pull him close to his chest. The kitten squeaked, wiggling as he tried to climb higher.

“Thank you,” Fax said, bustling by to snag the kitten and handed him over to a grey cat waiting on the counter.

“Is that sanitary?” Sorin couldn't help asking. He shied away from Cy, who was making a jab at his side, and then scooted out of the kitchen again. He hadn't sat down for five seconds when a second kitten appeared from hell knew where and plopped herself on his lap. 

“We’re inviting Angela and Fabi for a cookout tomorrow,” Fax was saying to Cy as they followed Sorin. Lev drifted in after, using his hound as a pillow as he sprawled on the floor. “I was hoping you two could come as well.”

Sorin did his best not to snort. Angela wasn't the biggest fan. Not that he _blamed_ her, but still! These gatherings were bad enough while he was avoiding eye contact with the people in the room he’d tried to kill. Adding someone who actively and openly disliked him didn't sound any more fun.

“Sorin has a meeting with his therapist in the morning, but we could probably make it for dinner,” Cyrus was saying, because of course he wanted to go. Sorin wouldn't say a word otherwise, and he'd do his best to keep his dislike off his face.

He was so busy keeping his thoughts off his face he nearly missed the angel sitting up, concerned and confused. “Is that wise? Humans are... much more breakable-”

“I'm not going to a human therapist,” Sorin cut him off, just as lost. “What human could understand what... what...”

“There are demons who are therapists Lev,” Fax offered, nudging his knee. “It's a lot safer than expecting a human to be able to deal with our problems.” He paused. “Don't angels have that?”

“No?” Lev blinked. “Angels aren't supposed to need therapy. If you do, something is... wrong.”

“Well, yeah. Kinda the reason for going to a therapist,” Sorin shot back. The words had barely left his mouth before he winced. He mumbled an apology and turned his attention to the kitten, who by this point had been joined by her brother and was tumbling around on his lap with many delighted squeaks. Their mother was nowhere to be found, of course.

Silence stretched for a full minute before Cyrus picked up the thread of conversation. That was enough for Sorin to tip his head back and close his eyes. They didn't need his input to have a conversation. Not really. He was here to pretend to be a normal part of lives he’d royally screwed over, and nothing more. 

But hey, at least the kittens were happy.


	3. Tiger: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitten Shenanigans Continue

The house was busier than Tiger had ever seen it. Without a doubt he and his sister were constantly underfoot, no matter how many times they got shooed away. That was the way of kittens, and most everyone there already knew it.

Whatever was going on, much of the time the Fax and Lev were in the kitchen, or ducking into the mysterious outside world. This meant, of course, that the kittens were in the kitchen, or else trying to escape into that outside world. Their mother nudged then away patiently each time they made a break for it until Tiger got tired of being shooed away and tottered off to find something else to get into.

Lio proved quite happy to let Tiger use him as a stepping stone to get up on the counter. The higher vantage point let him watch his sister tumble about Fax’s feet. For a moment he puffed his little chest out; he was taller, for once. It was a rather nice feeling.

He didn’t bask very long. His nose led him to the edge of the stove, stubby tail lashing as he peered at the cherry glow of the stovetop. The skillet on top was sizzling cheerfully, and the bacon smelled more than a little inviting. Tiger stretched his neck out and reared up, sniffing at the contents, and near tipping into the skillet as he did.

“No you don’t,” Lev murmured, picking him up without warning. Tiger flailed until he found himself on the other side of the stove, with plenty of room to explore still. He licked his chest to smooth his ruffled fur; despite not seeming in any danger, he still had the distinct feeling he’d just been rescued. He mewed a thanks to Lev, who didn’t seem to hear, before quick stepping on his way.

After scrambling over a few canisters at the back of the counter (and nudging a stray grape out of the bowl so he could knock it off on his sister’s head) he found himself facing the vast chasm that was the sink. Lev had filled it to wash said grapes, but now it sat there, not even half full. Tiger peered down, tail flicking back and forth. He could scoot along behind the sink, and continue on, but what explorer didn’t take risks? The cowardly type, of course.

He bunched his hind legs beneath him, dug his little kitten claws into the side of the sink, and pushed off.

At least the plop he made in the water was impressive.

He scrambled to keep his chin above the water, squeaking his distress. His nose dipped below more than once before he found the sides sloped just enough that he could stick to the walls and not have to stand on his toes to keep above water. With that realization, his frantic struggles stopped. A glance upward told him that there was no one scolding him, so he eased back into the deeper water. It took a few tries of scrambling before he realized churning his paws in a certain way ensured he stayed afloat. Even better, his tail worked rather well to help direct him, so long as he didn’t lash it happily.

He paddled around for several moments before hands descended and hauled him from the water. He mewed his protests, kicking out in ever direction indignantly and Lev plopped him on the table and started rubbing him down with a small towel.

“Fax, we have to do something about the kittens. This one tried to drown himself.”

Despite the worry clear in the not-demon’s voice, Tiger still spat crossly. Or perhaps because. He hadn’t been in any danger; he was actually quite proud of figuring out how to paddle through the water on his own. Despite his best efforts, he was unable to wiggle free.

“Let him go, Lev. He doesn’t seem to be hurt.” The towel lifted, and Fax’s smoke scented hands were rubbing Tiger’s ears briefly before Tiger was set on the floor. His mother pounced then, licking a patch of fur on his shoulder that stuck up, still wet. He ducked away, only to be met with his sister. That, above all other things, was the biggest insult. She didn’t want to help, though she pretended she did. Each attempt to dry him off was a tease, and they both knew it. In the end he sprang, bowling her over and pummeling her belly with his paws until she pushed him off. They rolled around, squeaking happily, disagreement forgotten just like that. And, knowing how much those two teased each other, perhaps it was best that way. After all, there was so much more to explore; who had time to stay mad, especially with new people walking in the door?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiger is going to be a constant handful. but also I adore his pov sO much


	4. Sorin, part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cowboy hats and pissy demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF it's been a while. Between some very low months and starting school and trying to get my feet under me I did not write for this in a good long while. (I got distracted by a mermaid au for Lev n Fax, which I CAN post if y'all want). I'm writing for many, many short series on tumblr, so I'm not sure what my update schedule for this is gonna be, but I have not abandoned it, I promise.

Sorin tugged the brim of his hat lower and slouched in the seat, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m fine,” he insisted.

“You’re bitchy,” Cyrus retorted. He reached for the hat, and had his hand smacked away for his efforts. “Come on, Sorin, talk to me. We look like idiots sitting in the driveway. Are you really going to sit there with that… hat on your head pulled so low you can’t see a damn thing, pouting-”

“If you don’t want me to wear the damn hat, fine. I know you think it’s ridiculous.” Sorin snatched it off and glared at Cyrus for a whole second before averting his gaze guiltily.

“There’s nothing wrong with the hat, Sorin. You make a dashing cowboy, and it makes you happy. Stop acting like a child and talk to me.”

“There’s nothing wrong! I’m waiting for you to get out of the damn car so we can go.” Sorin opened his door and got out himself, pausing only to bend over and add, “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. No fire, no snark, nothing. Happy?”

Cyrus sighed, and grabbed the hat off the dash. He circled around to plop the hat on Sorin’s head, flicking the brim up just enough that he could lean in and kiss Sorin right on the nose. “Now I am.”

“Sap,” Sorin muttered, yanking the brim down again as soon as Cyrus turned away. With any luck no one would pay him any attention as he slunk inside behind Cyrus.

Thankfully, Angela shot him a single look before turning pointedly to Lev, who seemed a little overwhelmed by the little woman who was suddenly solely focused on him. Sorin didn’t make it two steps before Pancake was winding around his ankles and threatening to trip him. He shook her off and scurried after Cyrus.

There was no one in the kitchen, and so they continued into the backyard, where they found Fax lovingly worrying over the grill while Fabius offered increasingly useless suggestions. Cyrus made a beeline for them, but Sorin wasn’t feeling it, so he continued deeper into the yard.

In the very back the grass was higher, less trimmed, and there were fewer little gardens, so Sorin felt quite safe to settle at the base of the little tree in the back and wonder how the hell his cousin had such a big backyard.

He had maybe five minutes of peace, during which he wiggled until he was comfortable and pulled the hat low so he could doze off and perhaps miss the whole stupid gathering, before Pancake appeared, her kittens prancing in front of her. Without hesitation the littlest one started climbing up his leg, tiny claws pricking briefly. Sorin stifled a sigh and opened one eye to make sure the little guy didn’t topple as he sprang up Sorin’s torso to perch on his shoulder. And then on his hat. The girl settled on his stomach, purring and pouncing on his fingers when he reached to steady her. When he glanced up, Pancake was nowhere to be found. Of course.

Tiger tumbled down onto his shoulder, mewing excitedly about something or other. At this point he felt allowed to tune the kittens out; they were surprisingly coherent, if you didn’t know. They couldn’t be much more than a few months old, but cats grew different from human children. Still, the chatter, well spoken or not, was easily ignored as he tried to doze off.

He even managed to, briefly, though it wasn’t too long before Cyrus was nudging him awake. Pushing back his hat, Sorin squinted at Cyrus. “Yeah?”

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Already?” Sorin grimaced as he stood, arching his back. To his surprise, while the grey kitten tumbled gracefully into the ground and scampered off, the little tom merely started scrambling up his jeans. Whatever. He scooped the kitten onto his shoulder and followed after Cyrus. Looking sullen wasn’t going to do him any favors, but he had never said he wanted to come in any case.

Once settled at the picnic table, that had appeared from who knew where, Sorin promptly took his hat off and stuck the kitten in it. There, the kitten had a container. And not two minutes later Pancake dropped the girl kitten in front him and promptly vanished, so Sorin plopped her in the hat too, and called it a day. They couldn’t get into too much trouble there.

Cyrus ruffled his curls before walking off to help Fax with the food, leaving him alone with Angela, who sat down at the very opposite end of the table. Fabius sat down across from Sorin, though, and leaned forward. “Long time no see,” he said, giving a friendly smile.

“I’m not exactly welcome around some people,” Sorin muttered back.

“Damn right,” Angela said sharply, without even bothering to look over. When Sorin bared his teeth at her halfheartedly, she flipped him off.

Fabius winced. “Ah. Right.” For a moment they watched as the grey kitten tumbled her way out of the hat and off to the other end of the table. Sorin decided that Angela could deal with her, and stared at the table instead. Fabius snaked a hand forward, tapping Sorin’s knuckles. “Hey. It’s good to see you, either way.”

Sorin glanced up. There was really nothing he could say. Not to mention he didn’t quite trust any word that came out of his mouth to not set Angela off somehow. He didn’t blame her, not really, but that didn’t mean it didn’t piss him off.

There was a small flurry of action on the back porch. By the time Sorin bothered to look up, Cyrus was hurrying over. “Hey,” Cyrus said, speaking quickly. “I just wanted to give you a heads up-”

At that point Sorin realized that someone had arrived and said sharply, “What the fuck is she doing here?”

“Fax didn’t tell me they invited Amara,” Cyrus promised, straightening. “Listen-”

“It’s fine,” Sorin said, not taking his eyes off her. “I’m a big boy. Go have fun. I have a kitten to babysit.”

Cyrus lingered, brushing the back of Sorin’s neck and ruffling his hair. “Be good,” he admonished.

“I’m a demon, Cy.”

“So’s Fabius, and he’s being perfectly pleasant,” Cyrus gave one of Sorin’s red-gold curls a tug. “Be. Good.”

“Be good,” Sorin mumbled sarcastically at Cyrus’ back. If the witch heard, he didn’t show it. When Fabius raised his eyebrows, Sorin made a face. “It’s not like I’m going to say no.”

“That because someone finally collared you?” Amara slid onto the bench beside Sorin, as if she didn’t see him flinch. “Good for Cyrus. We don’t need this kitty catching any more helpless songbirds.”

“Fuck off,” Sorin said hoarsely.

Angela snofted. “Good luck. She does as she pleases.”

“You would know, Ange. It’s alright. Sorin over here knows I promised not to do anything.” She slung an arm around his shoulders. “Isn’t that right? I mean, unless you’d like to go a round or two. For old times sake.”

“No, thank you. I like my nose unbroken.” He tried to shrug her off, but she stuck to him like a burr. A really fucking annoying burr. Anger sparked in his chest. As much as he hated the thought, he had to wonder where the fuck Cyrus had gone.

“Oh, come on, Amara, you know he’s a good boy now. Didn’t you just promise your boyfriend you’d be good?” Angela’s smirk really didn’t do anything to calm Sorin down, but somehow he didn’t think it was supposed to.

“You know what, fuck you, Angela. The angel doesn’t have a problem with me anymore. Get over it,” Sorin hissed. “It was never your problem to bitch about anyway.”

“That angel has a name,” Amara said, all playfulness gone from her tone.

Angela leaned across the table. “It became my problem when Cyrus dumped Lev beaten to hell and back and the body of  _your_ cousin on my lap. They might have forgiven you, but I know a monster when I see one. They’re too good to care.”

Fabius gave an uncomfortable laugh. “Guys, can we-”

“Fuck. You.” Sorin stood abruptly making sure to direct his words at Angela, before flicking a glance at the demon seated across from him. “Have a good night, Fabi. Go fuck yourselves, ladies.” He snatched up his hat as he walked past, pausing by the grill to murmur stiffly, “Thanks for having me, Fax. Lev. Tell Cy to stay as long as he wants, but I gotta go.”

Fax’s brows furrowed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Just a headache. I’m gonna go home, sleep it off. Seriously. Good to see you. Both of you. Good night.”

He didn’t notice until he’d stepped through hell and into his own home he’d never bothered to remove the second kitten from his hat.

“Shit.” He stared down at the little bundle of fur, completely at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t go back; that was just inviting a fight, and in any case, the kitten didn’t seem to be in any distress. In fact, he seemed quite determined to escape the hat and go exploring. Of course he was. Kittens. “The hell am I gonna do with you?” he sighed, scooping the kitten up and setting him loose on the couch. After a moment of debate, he shifted, and curled up on the couch with his tail wrapped around himself. Almost immediately the kitten pounced, batting at his ears.

So much for getting some sleep, Sorin thought tiredly. He’d bring the kitten back tomorrow. Or make Cyrus do it. But tomorrow, because if he showed his face there while Amara and Angela were there, ready to pick fights, he would not stop himself from rising to their bait, and that would cause more problems than it would solve.

Of course that meant he was in charge of this kitten for the night, but how bad could it be, really?


	5. Tiger, part three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitten!

Tiger woke before the sun, more than a little confused. His sister was not curled beside him, and the belly he was currently snuggled up to was most definitely not his mothers. He blinked at the white fur, the scent of smoke faint but consistent as he prodded at the unbelievably large cat arched protectively around him. This time a back paw pushed him away. Tiger puffed up briefly, but when Sorin hissed softly, Tiger let his fur settle. Sorin. Not a cat. Not human. Just Sorin, Tiger decided. He sneezed, before turning around, tripping over blankets as he tried to get a better view. He remembered, now. Sorin had picked him up and carried him onto the bed last night. Tiger had been too tired to do anything other than fall asleep against him.

Now they weren’t alone, though. This one smelled like Sorin. Not like he was Sorin, but like Sorin had spent a lot of time scent marking him. Under that he smelled like human, but also electricity. Inside electricity, not outside electricity. Lightning. That was lightning. Pleased with his remembering, Tiger padded over to this human. When sniffing his face didn’t wake the human, he scrambled up and over. Maybe he could make the jump down? He wanted to explore.

Before he cold, a warm hand scooped him up and put him right back in the middle of the bed. So perhaps the human hadn’t been as asleep as he’d thought. Tiger mewed a plea to be released, trying his best to climb the human again. Instead of being set free to explore, he was scooped up and hushed. He peered over the human’s shoulder as he was carried away. Sorin had balled up and covered his nose with his tail, a deliberate dismissal. Well then.

Tiger found himself set down on the kitchen floor. Freed, he immediately bounded in the human’s way, judging by the soft curse. A gentle wind scooted him further to the side as the human moved to the counters. Not wanting to be left behind, Tiger began the arduous climb up the human’s pants, squeaking determinedly.

“I have to wonder if this was what Sorin was like as a child.” With that statement, Tiger found himself lifted onto the counter. He squeaked his thanks, and padded around, stubby tail high. “Ah, no, away from the coffee maker, little one,” the human added, scooting him  further down the counter. “Something tells me yes.”

Tiger padded further, eyeing the sink curiously. There wasn’t any water in this one, but there was a cutting board leaning stretched across the top. Tiger crouched, wiggling his rear in preparation for a spring that surely would get him at least halfway across the cutting board.

“No, you don’t,” the hurman admonished.

Tiger turned to mew a question, only to discover that the human had opened a cabinet. Tiger reared  up, craning his neck in an effort to see what the human was pulling down. Once the mug was set down, Tiger did his best to crawl inside curiously.

“No,” the human scolded, lifting him out of the way and holding him close. “I’m about to put hot things in that.” He didn’t let Tiger go until he’d poured himself a cup of coffee. Only then did he let Tiger free on the counter again. Tiger immediately sniffed at the coffee while the human was in the fridge, though to his disappointment, the human hadn’t lied about it being hot. He sat down and pawed at his nose while he watched the human add more to the mug.

“Yeah, you stuck your nose in anyway, didn’t you? Serves you right,” the human scooped Tiger up again, and settled him on the table instead. “I’d fix you something to eat, but I know nothing about kittens.” One hand reached over to pet Tiger lightly. “Sorin swears you can understand me to some extent. I hope he wasn’t pulling my leg, or else I’m going to look very foolish.”

“Not that hard to do, Cyrus,” Sorin mumbled, padding in. Tall, now, Tiger noticed. Not-cat. He mewed a greeting, and got waved off for his troubles. “Coffee?”

“Decaf. I didn’t think you’d be up for another hour at least,” Cyrus replied apologetically. He let Tiger pounce on his hand with barely a blink. “Pour the rest in a pot. I can reheat it when i’m ready for my second cup.”

“Heathen,” Sorin accused weakly, but did as he was asked.

Cyrus freed his hand, but when he flicked his fingers, a spark of light appeared. Tiger pounced on that, instead, only to have it wiggle free and float further down the table. Tiger scampered off, only half listening as Cyrus went on.

“So what are we going to do with him?”

“I was hoping you’d take him back for me. I don’t want to go back.”

The little spark drifted up and over Tiger, forcing him to twist and chase it back the way he came.

“That’s fair. I guess I can take the little guy back after breakfast.” Cyrus drummed his fingers on the table, rings flashing, and the little spark did a few loops in the air. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Fine.” Sorin wandered over, reaching out to keep Tiger from wobbling off the edge of the table as he reared to paw at the little speck of light. “Just dandy.”

“Sorin…”

“Cyrus…” Tiger dropped down to all four paws as the bit of light shivered out of existence. Sorin scooped him up, settling him on his shoulder instead. Tiger pawed delightedly at a loose curl. “Look, there’s nothing I can do it avoid them. They… have a point. I’ve not done anything to earn forgiveness. But, hell below, they don't’ have to be so smug about the whole thing.”

Cyrus hummed sympathetically, but said nothing right away. Instead he finished his coffee, and stood. He gathered Tiger up, and dropped a kiss to the top of Sorin’s head. “Well. You do try, which is more than we could say of you six months ago. The rest will come from practice. Come and get me next time. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“I’m going to take this little guy home,” Cyrus went on, running his hand down Tiger’s back.. “Why don’t you get started on breakfast. We can just eat when I get back instead.”

“Yeah. Okay.”


End file.
